


Our Souls Already Know

by Roger_That_Sarge



Series: Unexpected [5]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Casual Sex, Deep connections, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, From Sex to Love, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, brief mention/ reference to death, charles gets punked, discovering feelings, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29035506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roger_That_Sarge/pseuds/Roger_That_Sarge
Summary: Their relationship had always been explosive.orPierre and Esteban have always had a connection, but sometimes it just takes time for everything to click into place.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, George Russell/omc, Lando Norris/Lance Stroll, Pierre Gasly/Esteban Ocon
Series: Unexpected [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069403
Kudos: 45





	Our Souls Already Know

Brazil 2018 had been their catalyst, sparking long forgotten flames from the ashes of a friendship long burned out.

Their relationship had always been explosive.

The friendship between them sparked bright from the time they met. Fireworks and friction, two kids on top of the world feeling like they could take on everything with the other by their side.

The triumphs were beautiful. Full of joy and laughter, of tight hugs and pinkie promises that one day they would stand on podiums together all over the world when they made it. There was no if’s, only when’s. No, your struggles and finances will hold you back, only whispers of we’ll do this together always.

But as with every explosive friendship, the fall came twice as fast and ten times as painful as that initial burn, that flicker that lights the flame between two souls.

Suddenly when’s became what if’s, became mutters of ‘I need to do better than him’. Jealously was a disease that crept inside his chest, insecurities pulling him to dark places when mixed with the intense and high-pressured races where each mistake could cost you the sponsors needed to break through the ranks.

Esteban had always found it hard to make friends, found it even harder to keep them with his introverted nature and his need to succeed that outweighed the loneliness he felt when watching other young drivers. He had never needed them, he had Pierre and their secret handshakes that made him smile. He had the way Pierre always had extra food or supplies for karting, small things he would share with Esteban when he was struggling.

Yet the fall came. Bitter words exchanged when emotions were high, on track incidences carried off track to garages and pitlanes. Words spit like molten lava burning any little bit of friendship that clung on between the two teens.

Esteban had watched, angry and scared as he let insecurity and pride chase away one of the only childhood friends he had kept throughout his pursuit of his dream.

They had exploded. Pierre walking away with cuts and bruises, a bitter taste in his mouth from a friendship turned sour while Esteban stood alone, shrapnel embedded in skin and wounds that would be picked at repeatedly as fought tooth and nail to cling to his dream, pretending it didn’t hurt to see Pierre laugh so freely, surrounded by others while Esteban hid in the background.

Lance had been his saving grace. Two introverted boys fighting their way through the grid with awkward humour and chips on their shoulders that made them outsiders amongst their own. A friend to face the battlefield with and retreat to when it all became too much.

Yet even their connection was nothing like the spark between him and Pierre. Even when their eyes met across the pit lane or conference room, there was a tension between that had been building since they were teenagers. A need to be near the other that formed an ache in his bones and an itch in their hands that resulted in taunts and words been tossed around as the media speculated about their ‘rivalry’.

Little did they know that the hatred they wrote about was something more powerful and addictive, only coming to a head during Brazil 2017 when Pierre was bruised but smug, smirk taunting as Esteban simmered in anger and adrenaline.

This time when they erupted, Esteban bleeding words like knives, Pierre had fought back. He’d taken his explosion and contained it with his body carefully pinning Esteban’s to the wall of the of his hotel room, words smooth and teasing, fingers leaving burning trails across his skin until their spark fanned into a flame.

All consuming and burning.

There was nothing gentle about how they started.

They were bruises on pale skin, words of steel and scrambling fingers digging into shoulder blades. They were fire, destructive and intense. Sparking from bad results, loss of seats and need for the other that was engulfed in the way they fell apart and kept coming back together as if something stronger than lust and hatred connected them.

It changed in again sometime in 2019. Nights where they would manhandle the other to where they wanted them, lost themselves in the need to touch and feel, turned into something softer.

If Esteban had to put a time on it, he would say it was before Spa.

Things had already been changing. They were lingering longer, kisses slower and sweeter. It went from rushed meetings wherever they could find an empty room and kissing used to muffle voices, to taking their time. To hotel room beds instead of walls and floors, from intense rushed frustration to a more intense, subtler mood between them. Hands almost revered as they ghosted over skin in fleeting touches and kisses tinged with smiles rather than teeth and smirks.

September had broken them, but instead of falling apart they came together in the wake of a tragedy that would forever tinge that track, making it hard for them to breath.

The night was clear in Esteban’s mind. His own grief driving him away from everyone, even sweet gentle Lance who would have been content to sit by his friends’ side and simply be a silent comfort.

He had been sitting in silence, staring at a drink he had poured but never touched, just letting the darkness settled around him when a knock, so brief he thought he had imagined it, pulled him out of his spiral for a moment.

He’d dragged himself to the door, body, and mind tired, preparing to tell Lance to fuck off when he opened it to meet Pierre. His eyes red rimmed and face pale, and all he did was step into the room, wrapping his arms desperately around Esteban’s waist and burying hi head in the taller man’s shoulder.

They laid together, every inch of each other pressed together from forehead to ankles, sharing memories and reassurances, their words for once comforting instead of antagonising.

After that things had shifted, and Esteban could never find the right word for what they were lowly becoming.

On the outside they were rivals, still feuding and ignoring each other as far as the world outside of them were concerned. Yet in private they spent more days just lying together, taking comfort from the warmth of the others body, from Pierre’s fingers in his hair and his heart beating under Esteban’s ear until all he could hear was Pierre’s distinctive laughter at whatever show he had put on.

The sex was still electrifying, but there was a new element to that too. They were still wild, full of biting fingernails in skin and teasing, still unable to keep hands off each other in tucked away corners but now there was soft touches, times where it was just them in the moment, the morning sun creeping through the curtains and everything was slow and sweet.

Bad races turned into comforting the other instead of tension relieving sex and parting quickly.

And it had all led to here, to this moment that made Esteban’s chest flutter with emotions so complex that he couldn’t untangle them as he watched Pierre stare out over the ocean from the balcony, his body relaxed and a gentle smile on his face that was just for these moments. The moments where they were away from the track, from the others and the judgement of the world.

It was the smile he gave Esteban in the morning before kissing him slow and sweet until he melted into warm sheets and the body next to his.

In this moment, as Pierre took in Esteban’s little hideaway, a piece of himself that he kept hidden from all but those who had earned his trust, he felt strangely vulnerable.

‘The view is beautiful, as is this place’, Pierre complimented as he walked back in doors, fingers trailing across the soft blanket on the back of the couch, ‘Very domestic, not at all what I expected from an F1 driver. We tend to be creatures of luxury, no?’.

Esteban hummed in answer, feeling a shy smile emerge on his face as he glanced around his flat. It was home to him. A place he had crafted just for him, away from his main flat in downtown Monaco where the glitz and the glamour were everything. Where everyone had a face on even when just running to the corner store. Here, outside of the main areas and tucked away in a building full of wealthy retirees and people using this as an escape as he was, he could be semi anonymous.

He’d filled his home not with the latest trends or his own achievements but with soft blankets and trinkets from his travels, pictures of his friends and families scattered around shelves and side tables. All his mugs were mismatched and held value to him.

If Esteban were honest, truly honest with himself and the reason he had asked Pierre to spend a few days with him in Monaco, he would admit that he was sharing a part of his soul that he wanted Pierre to see and love.

Instead, he let Pierre’s hands wrap around his waist, thumbs pressing against hipbones against bruises that had been kissed into his skin the night before and pull him into a soft kiss.

‘Thank you for bringing me here’, Pierre murmured with a smile against the tallers lips, humming at the feeling of Esteban’s hand under his shirt, tracing along the muscles of his back, ‘Is this the surprise you promised?’

Esteban laughed, a little chuckle against Pierre’s lips before pulling the other closer, kissing him again and using a hand to tilt Pierre’s face upwards to deepen the kiss, pulling little sighs from Pierre as they just existed in the moment.

‘Is sex the surprise, because we’ve been doing that for almost two years now’, Pierre teased, nipping Esteban’s lip before pulling back to give him a smug smirk.

‘No, and you know I am more than able to surprise you in the bedroom still, Pear’, Esteban rolled his eyes, letting the old childhood nickname slip and ignoring the flash of emotion that crossed Pierre’s face.

‘I’m taking you out, Mr. Race Winner’, Esteban smiled, letting go of Pierre as the other stood staring at him in shock.

‘We’re going out? I thought we agreed that this is nothing more than a mutually beneficial arrangement Este’, Pierre stuttered nervously, something akin to hope and disbelief in his eyes.

Esteban swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth, crushed emotions that had always crawled beneath the surface that crept closer and closer to escape as time went on.

‘As friends Pear’, Esteban forced a chuckled, ruffling Pierre’s hair as the other deflated slightly, ‘I haven’t been a great friend, and you deserve to be celebrated. I have a friend who manages La Marée, they’re setting us up on the deck after closing, low lights so we won’t be spotted but amazing views of the harbour’.

‘Esteban…’, Pierre whispered, that soft smile back on his lips as he reached for Estaban’s face to pull him into a sweet kiss full of promises.

‘Let me celebrate you, and then we can spend the next few days having mind blowing sex all over the apartment, maybe even on the yacht if you’re feeling up for it’, Esteban smirked at the way Pierre’s eyes darkened and he nipped at his lip before pulling away.

The two of them got ready in companiable silence, heated glances shared as they undressed and disappointment clear when they got redressed for heading out. Pierre throwing teasing glances and whispering promises in French every time his eyes landed on Esteban’s naked torso.

Bulking up this season had been one of Esteban best decisions judging by the reactions he had gotten from Pierre in the few times they managed to hook up between races.

It hadn’t taken long until they were out of the flat, making their way covertly to La Marée. Esteban couldn’t help but admire the way the fairy lights Jean had hung around their table made Pierre’s face seem softer, the sharp cheeks cast in a soft light, his blonde hair glittering in the light and his laughter leaving a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest that had nothing to do with the wine, and everything to do with Pierre.

The food was good, but the company was better. Esteban couldn’t remember the last time they had been like this, so open and carefree. All guards down.

Even with the shift he’d been feeling between them lately, they had never been this soft with each other. It was as if the world they lived in had melted from view, taking with it the competition and the bitter need to fight to survive, just leaving them. Pierre and Esteban. Two boys who had always been drawn together, but this time it didn’t end in tears.

It ended in a tradition that would make them laugh for months to come. One that made them smirk and whisper, plotting at night while lying pressed together in the little slice of home that they would carve out together without realising it in a little apartment away from the lights in Monaco.

A tradition that had everything to do with pissing off one Charles Leclerc.

It had been Pierre’s idea. Most of the chaotic or daring things that they tried or did came from Pierre, often when he was pinning Esteban down, whispering in his ear until Esteban was putty in his very capable hands.

This one particular idea had come about during dinner right when Pierre was hooking his ankle around Esteban’s, wine in hand and a glint in his eyes that made Esteban bite his lip.

‘Can we fuck with Charles while here?’, Pierre asked, smirking as he took a sip of his wine and Esteban choked on his, making a surprised noise.

‘Not that way Este, mind out of the gutter’, Pierre laughed, reaching across the table to brush the drop of spilled wine from Esteban’s chin with his thumb.

Esteban found it very hard not to think with his mind in the gutter when Pierre was looking at him like that and sucking the drop of wine from his thumb before smiling at him.

‘How do you suggest we do that if you’re not trying to talk your long term hook up into a threesome with your best friend’, Esteban coughed, taking a sip of water to cool himself.

‘Charles gets jealous easily’, Pierre smirked, placing the wine glass back on the table looking out at the harbour before them, ‘He’s also always inviting me to visit him in Monaco and pouting when I don’t. So, lets tease him a little, I want to send him a picture of me here. It’s recognisable, he will go insane trying to catch me’.

Esteban couldn’t help but laugh, having been on the receiving end of Charles jealous pouts a few times when he had stolen moments of Pierre’s time as teens.

‘So, you just really want to make Charles run around Monaco at midnight to try find you?’, Esteban smirked, reaching for Pierre’s phone as the other held it out for him.

‘Exactly’, Pierre laughed, standing, and stretching for his white button down raised upwards, revealing a strip of his abs that instantly drew Esteban’s gaze.

Pierre offered him a hand, smirking as he led him towards the railings, leaning against them and gazing at Esteban softly. The breeze ruffled his hair, shirt billowing slightly, and he looked princely as the ocean lapped gently at the shore and the lights of the surrounding businesses.

‘Hurry up’, Pierre teased, running a hand through his hair, ‘By the time he figures out where I am and arrives, I want to have you in bed’.

Later that night, as Esteban lay with his face tucked into Pierre’s neck, hand resting on his should as Pierre traced patterns along his spine while Esteban tried to figure out if he still had legs or was just so tired that he could no longer feel them, Pierre finally clicked into the messages that had been blowing up his phone since they had left La Marée.

‘Look at these’, Pierre laughed, the sound rumbling comfortably under Esteban’s cheek as he gazed up at the phone and couldn’t help but laugh at the barge of texts from Charles.

‘Pierre!?!?!’

‘Are you in Monaco?’

‘Wait that’s the view from La Marée!’

‘Pierre Gasly answer me!!’

‘PIERRE I AM AT THE RESTAURANT WHERE ARE YOU?’

‘PIERRE DON’T MAKE ME CALL YOUR MOTHER’

‘Are you going to answer him?’, Esteban yawned between giggles, eyes closing at the feeling of Pierre’s fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp gently.

‘No, leave him there. I have more important things to take care of’, Pierre’s voice was fond and his touches soft, soothing as Esteban drifted off to sleep.

*

They kept the little game going each time they found themselves escaping to Monaco.

Between time spent together, they went out visiting recognisable areas.

One week, they had taken a stroll through the Japanese Garden towards the end of its opening hours when it was quiet, only a couple of people, all too interested in the sights before them than the two boys sharing glances and brushes of fingers as they wandered around the garden.

They’d grabbed ice cream from a small shop by the apartment, swapping and sharing tastes as they wandered the grounds in peace.

Pierre was surprised at one point, watching the bright smile on Estebans face as he dragged him behind a cluster of trees, their branches hanging low and creating a little alcove of privacy around them.

Before Pierre could say anything, Esteban had leaned down capturing his lips in a kiss that tasted like cherries and took his breath away, made him feel consumed. It strummed with a connection that he had always felt around Esteban, something deep and lasting, but Pierre pulled away, pushing it down.

He’d been burned before.

‘Esteban, some could see’, Pierre offered as an excuse, trying not to notice how Esteban’s eyes focused solely on him, how he smiled something fragile and unknown, the look in his eyes that begged Pierre to understand.

‘Just…just let me have you like this for a moment’, Esteban whispered back, pulling him into another searing kiss that made Pierre quake in his soul. His hand automatically reaching up to knock the cap from Estebans head and thread in his soft locks, tugging slightly to hear the way Esteban gasped into their kiss before smiling against his lips.

Pierre kissed back to bury the words within him that wanted to tell Esteban he could keep him for more than a moment.

Instead, he laughed as he fixed the others hair, shoving his cap back on his head and peaking out of the trees before escaping the little haven they found. Esteban following after him shortly, the distance between them causing an ache in Pierre’s chest that he ignored.

‘Here’, Esteban pointed, drawing Pierre out of his pondering, pointing at the wooden bridge across one of the ponds, the distinctive Japanese gazebo in the background and the pond enclosed by beautiful flowers and shrubbery, ‘Let me take a picture of you here for Charles’.

They’d kissed in the car, Estebans hand warm on his thigh and the taste of cherries overwhelming as Pierre shivered under his touch before Esteban pulled away with a quick, ‘Pear, look’.

Pierre managed to pull away, supressing shivers and the need to cover Estebans hand with his own, glancing back over his shoulder to see Charles thundering towards the entrance to the gardens, Charlotte looking amused and calmly walking behind him as Charles tried to peer in the gate as they closed for the evening.

Laughing, the duo drove back to the apartment, ordering food their trainers would kill them for eating and curling together on the couch, feet tangled as they made out lazily, listing to Pierre’s phone buzzing itself to death as a movie played in the background.

Later the texts read:

‘PIERRE’

‘THIS ISN’T FUNNY, CHARLOTTE THINKS I’M AN IDIOT’

‘WHERE ARE YOU?’

*

‘Hey’, Lando’s voice was soft, shy as he entered the kitchen, hopping to sit on the counter and watch as Esteban waited for the coffee maker to finish brewing.

Esteban offered him a smile back, taking in the way the other driver was wearing on of Lance’s hoodies. The sleeves covering his hands, the material swamping him and making him look tiny. In the moment Esteban could see what Lance saw. A man who was soft but strong, small but fierce. The perfect match for Lance’s quiet strength. They complimented each other.

He couldn’t help but think of Pierre too for a moment. Thinking of him in what was becoming their bed, lying fast asleep in a patch of sunlight as Esteban had crawled out of bed to make coffee. The way his hand fit perfectly in his and how slowly parts of Pierre were merging with Esteban’s throughout the apartment. His trinkets, pictures, hoodies draped over chairs.

And he ached.

Things had been changing, words muddling. Somewhere before Lance and Lando’s almost break up they had stopped referring to each other as hook ups, the absence of the word leaving room for something neither of them seemed ready to name or discuss.

Yet seeing Lance with Lando, having them here in their little hideaway made it harder to ignore how much he simply wanted to keep Pierre for more than a handful of nights.

The thought made his eyes tear as he reached for cups, clearing his throat as Lando tilted is head, looking at him.

‘Coffee?’, Esteban offered, reaching for more mugs.

‘I’m good thanks, I’ll make some tea in a bit’, Lando smiled again, fiddling with the sleeves of his borrowed hoodie, ‘Um, but Lance likes some with a little drop of milk and sugar if you’re already making some’.

Esteban gave him a teasing look as he settled the mugs, watching the blush rise on Lando’s cheeks.

‘He’s got you whipped’, Esteban teased shaking his head gently with a chuckle as he moved to the fridge.

Lando didn’t dispute his words, shrugging with a small, private smile on his face as he gazed at his feet for a few seconds,

They stayed in silence, Esteban ignoring the way Lando raised his eyebrows at how quickly, and efficiently he set about making Pierre’s coffee after handing Lando the one for Lance and taking a sip of his own black coffee.

‘I wanted to thank you actually’, Lando spoke softly, as if he were afraid Pierre or Lance would wake at the sound of his voice.

‘For what?’, Esteban focused on stirring the right amount of low-fat creamer and caramel sauce into Pierre’s sweet morning monstrosity.

‘For being there for Lance when I couldn’t be’, Lando held the coffee in his hands, staring away from Esteban with a sad tint to his words.

‘Lando’, Esteban turned, making to comfort the other but Lando held a hand up, smiling once again as he looked at him fondly.

‘No, let me just get it out’, Lando shifted on the countertop as he spoke, ankles rubbing together, ‘When we fought, we were both in bad places. In my own spiral I couldn’t see what Lance needed, only what I would want when spiralling which is a lot of comfort. Lance needed to be somewhere he could think, and that wasn’t with me. That scared me, the thought of him being alone with his thoughts, with the family texting him and the media trying to crucify us, and I’m just so happy to know he had you, and Pierre. That he wasn’t alone’.

‘You two deserved better than you got, you know that don’t you?’, Esteban reassured moving to grab the box of tea Lance had stashed in the press when they’d arrived in Monaco.

‘Yeah, we did, but it is what it is’, Lando shrugged, ‘But as I was saying, I’m grateful for what you did for him. For texting Alex when he had the panic attack, for getting him to talk and not just shut down like he did with me. You’re the best friend he could ask for and I just wanted you to know that’.

‘Thank you Lando, I try do what I can for him’, Esteban smiled, passing Lando his cup, steaming tea inside and a carton of low-fat milk to let the other make his tea.

‘Can I give you some advice?’, Lando asked, stirring milk into the cup, stopping every few drops to check colour before removing the tea bag and dropping onto a plate beside him.

‘Um, what for?’, Esteban questioned, adding a drop of hot water to Pierre’s coffee, knowing he would be up soon.

‘Pierre’, Lando stated as if it were obvious.

‘Lando….we’re not like you and Lance’, Esteban denied, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he said them.

‘That’s where you’re wrong’, Lando spoke softly, as if Esteban would flee at any moment, ‘I see how you look at Pierre, how he looks at you. It may have started as a fling Este, but its more. You’re not me and Lance, no. You two have this connection, this history, that binds you and it makes you scared to have him. I get it but take it from someone who came pretty close to losing their always Esteban. Don’t make him wait, you don’t need to label anything, but you need to admit that this more than what you two are pretending it is’.

Esteban looked away, taking a long sip of his coffee, the liquid burning the words in his throat that had wanted to escape for almost a year now.

‘I don’t want to lose him’, Esteban admitted, the ache in his chest ever present with the fear.

The fear that he would destroy them like he had once before.

‘You’re not going to’, Lando reassured, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, ‘He looks at you and everything about him relaxes, you’re not the same teenagers you were when things went wrong. You’ve been together like this almost four years and you two only get closer, you’re his endgame. You just need to admit it’.

Esteban laughed softly, blinking back the tears in his eyes and the voice inside him telling him Lando was right, that Pierre was his endgame, and their connection ran deeper than words could describe.

‘Thank you’, Esteban whispered, giving the other driver a soft smiling that was returned. The two of the basking in the silence once more, sipping their drinks until a noise disturbed them.

‘There you are baby’, Lance’s voice was husky with sleep but the smile on his face could have lit up a thousand rooms as he spotted Lando, automatically making his way to Lando.

Esteban watched as they came together seamlessly. Lando shifting his legs to make room for Lance to stand between them, sharing a brief soft kiss before Lando was handing Lance his coffee, pressing a kiss to his temple as Lance slouched against the counter, his back to Lando’s chest. Lando legs around his waist and head on Lance’s shoulder.

He wondered if him and Pierre fit together so effortlessly and judging by the soft look Lando was giving him, they did. It made his heart want to beat out of his chest with the realisation.

‘Coffee’, Pierre’s soft voice pulled him away from the couple before him as the other appeared at his side, pressing into Esteban’s space, sleepily dropping a kiss on his forehead as Esteban automatically handed over the sweet drink only to receive Pierre’s unconscious happy little hum in his ear as he took the first sip.

Esteban ignored Lando’s pointed stare as Pierre’s free hand found his hip and he stayed pressed against him, instead downing more of his coffee as if it would save him.

‘So, plans for today?’, Lance yawned, making a soft noise as Lando ran fingers through his hair.

‘Want to fuck with Charles?’, Pierre smirked, eyes jumping from Esteban to the couple staring in confusion and slight horror.

‘Um, I…no? We’re good thanks’, Lando stuttered out, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

At the same time Lando stumbled through his confused answer, Lance let one word escape him as his eyes drifted closed from Lando playing with his hair.

‘Kinky’.

‘Oh my god Lance, shut up’.

‘Sorry baby’.

Esteban could feel Pierre basking in the slight chaos, his face pressed into Estebans hair to try hide his laughter, but he could feel it through where they were pressed together.

‘Nothing kinky’, Esteban promised, ‘It’s a game we play when we come here. Charles keeps asking Pierre to come to Monaco, Pierre says no-’

‘And then I send him pictures of places we go that he would recognise and leave before he gets there to mess with him’, Pierre filled in, eyes glinting with mischief as he looked up at the others, ‘Then I pretend I have no clue what he is talking about when he texts me about it. We’ve done it a few times now and it’s fun to watch’.

‘Yes, thousand times yes we are in’, Lando laughed, ignoring the way Lance groaned in protest, gazing up at him beggingly.

‘I thought we were going to go out on the boat, teach you how to sail, skinny di-’ Lance whined, getting cut off by Lando slapping a hand over his mouth.

‘Where were you thinking?’, Lando question, not even flinching when Lance noticeably bit his palm.

Esteban raised an eyebrow at his friend as Pierre and Lando talked logistics, getting an eyebrow waggle in return, and a pointed look at Pierre with a question in brown eyes that Esteban was going to ignore.

Somehow, after a morning of ignoring his best friend’s looks for a round of shower sex while Lance and Lando went to the building’s gym, they ended up at the Animal Gardens. Lance and Lando had been planning on going during the few days they were staying with them.

The gardens were amazing, but Esteban heard Lando’s words repeating in his head, felt the ache in his chest and a bitterness in his soul as he watched Lance and Lando walk freely, hand in hand, sharing kisses and taking cute pictures with the animals in the background.

Meanwhile he could feel the distance between him and Pierre like a missing limb. Despite the garden being empty at this time of day, they couldn’t risk anything, making sure to stand at opposite ends of the group, looking as if they had been dragged there by their friends and not because they meant something to each other.

They took a picture of Pierre and Lando, the two of them leaning against the rail of the bird’s enclosure, a rainbow parrot resting between them looking at the camera as the boys smiled.

Not even watching Charles skid into the gardens, looking determined and almost tripping over the pathway and landing on his face got rid of the feeling inside of Esteban that had crept into his chest, the burn inside him that wanted to spark every time Pierre caught his gaze.

All he could think of later that night, Pierre in his lap as they laughed with Lance and Lando over the text messages the two had received, was just how much he wanted to stay like this.

He knew he needed to talk to Pierre. He needed to be ready to let him go if things had gotten too complicated.

As Pierre turned to him, eyes bright and smile wide, he pushed the thoughts from his mind, focusing on the texts being shown to him.

‘PIERRE WHY ARE YOU WITH LANDO’.

‘LANDO IS MY FRIEND NOT YOURS PEAR’

‘Okay I am at the parrots Pierre, where the fuck are you?’

‘Lando, you know how I adore you…. now where the hell are you’.

‘HEY. LIL GREMLIN.’

‘I will put all your stuff on high shelves and laugh as you fail to reach them for this Lando, just you wait’.

*

Pierre knew things had changed.

It was why he had brought him here. Brought him to a place that exposed his heart and soul to the man who had the power to comfort and hurt him, who held the ability to heal him sweet kisses and hold him together with gentle looks.

Whether he knew it or not, Esteban had been the balm to his soul since they had met, and it had scared him even back then.

Yet now, the pull was stronger. And Pierre wanted to follow it all the way to where it was leading, to his hand in Esteban’s and to their flat in Monaco where they could exist without expectations or questions of what they were.

They could just be.

Pierre had planned to tell him over dinner, planned to say the words when Esteban was half asleep in his arms in the little holiday home Pierre’s family had in Séte, blinking those big eyes up at him and the words got caught in his throat.

Instead, they wandered the streets together, getting lost in hustle and bustle of the markets that they had found. Pierre feeling the affection course through him every time Esteban excitedly made his way towards a booth, glancing over his shoulder with that wide bright smile of his, checking if Pierre was still there, still waiting for him to finish buying hand crafted glass ornaments for his mother.

They were able to lose themselves in the crowd, even risking their hands intertwining for a few moments. Allowing themselves to feel normal, to feel like the couple they were growing to be over the last few years as their shoulders knocked together.

It was magical.

Pierre watched the lights from the decorations dance across Estebans figure. Taking in the little red flush on his cheeks from the cold air, and how his bobble hat almost fell off with the way he threw his head back to laugh at a little puppet show that was taking place near the centre of the market.

He saw the adoration, the care on Esteban’s face as they sat on a bench under fairy lights, warm apple ciders in hands mixed with cinnamon as Pierre told him of the family holiday here. Of watching the water jousting during the summer and running through the streets at night, his parents laughing as him and his brothers played tag. Of when he first made enough in racing to buy the holiday home. The first time he took his nieces and nephews here to see the water jousting, a family tradition they passed down to them and he hoped someday to pass down too.

Esteban had listened to every word, asking questions, and laughing at jokes, teasing Pierre about fashion choices when he had reluctantly showed him pictures of him running the streets when he was younger, until the cold had driven them home.

‘It’s amazing to think you were here, just smaller, running these streets just a few years ago’, Esteban remarked as they walked the canals back towards the holiday home, fingers brushing with every step.

‘I used to do cartwheels down this surface at night, my mother was always afraid I’d hit a bench and hurt myself’, Pierre laughed, wrapping his arm around Esteban’s, the streets empty, ‘My brothers, of course, egged me on’.

‘What I wouldn’t give to see little Pierre like that’, Esteban smiled, eyes tracing the street as if he could see it happening before him.

And Pierre knew.

He knew he wanted this.

‘Hey’, Pierre interrupted Esteban’s musing, tugging his arm gently, ‘Come with me?’.

Esteban didn’t question him, allowing Pierre to drag him along side streets down the side of the building the holiday home was located into a pair of rickety stairs, the banisters laced with fairy lights shaped like flowers.

Pierre led him up to the top of the building, pushing open a small gate that led to a little roof top garden. Little potted plants lined the walls with a small decorative fountain trickling at one side.

Pierre pulled him to a bench in the middle of the little garden, sitting them down and pointing.

Despite the dark of the night, the lights of the street lit up the canals and the coast.

‘This is amazing Pierre’, Esteban let out an awed breath, wrapping his arm around Pierre’s waist as he took in the view.

‘It’s why I picked this building, the view is beautiful,’ Pierre smiled, reaching up to turn Esteban’s face towards him, ‘Like you’.

‘Pierre…’, Esteban visibly swallowed, his own hand coming up to rest on Pierre’s.

For a moment neither of them spoke, just gazing into each other’s eyes, Pierre’s thumb stroking along his cheek bone.

‘I want you’, Pierre whispered, a truth that trembled through them both.

‘I’m right here’, Esteban smiled, pulling Pierre closer.

Pierre shook his head, pressing his forehead to Estebans and closing his eyes. Afraid of the answer he would get, afraid of the words that he was about to speak.

‘I want you now, I want you tomorrow, I want you ten years from now when we might not be racing anymore and just lounging around Monaco as jobless idiots with too much money and no sense’, Pierre breathed the words out into existence, ‘I want us’.

Pierre waited for an answer, feeling the shake of Esteban’s cheek under his hand as the other took in shaky breaths, before opening his eyes to face the possible rejection despite everything within him telling him that this was going exactly where he wanted it to.

Esteban was staring at him, open and vulnerable, tears in his eyes and that bright smile Pierre loved taking up his entire face making him look soft in the distant lights of the city.

‘Pierre, you have always had me’, Esteban admitted, moving his other hand from Pierre’s waist to cup his face, ‘I want all of that. I want an us, and I think we’ve finally reached a place where it’s right, and it’s perfect even with its broken bits. What we have goes beyond words, but I know I want to be yours’.

Relief shot through Pierre like lightening striking, every nerve alive as Esteban laughed breathlessly before pulling him into his lap and kissing him under the moonlight in one of his favourite places in the world. Pierre lost himself in the fact that he could have this. Lost himself in the knowledge that Esteban wanted this, wanted them together until they were old men arguing over who’s car was faster and who looked better in racing suits back when they were young.

They pulled apart slowly, knowing that they had all the time in the world to do this. That every step had led them to this one perfect moment.

It was later that night, when they lay tangled, hands tracing patterns along soft skin and mummering words they had been afraid to say that Pierre checked his phone, noticing that Charlotte and Charles were also in Séte, that they decided to keep up the tradition, sending a picture they had taken of the two of them at the market to Charles.

In the morning they would see the text and laugh at them as they shared soft glances and kisses over pancakes.

‘PIERRE, I SWEAR TO GOD HOW ARE YOU HERE’

‘Are you stalking me? Is that it?’

‘WAIT’.

‘PIERRE GASLY DID YOU TELL HIM??’

‘CAN WE DOUBLE DATE NOW??’

‘PIERRE!! RESPOND TO ME!!’

*

‘I’m so happy for you’, Lando whispered, pulling the taller driver into a hug as Esteban let them into his ‘official’ Monaco apartment, away from his and Pierre’s little hideaway apartment.

The gang had decided to meet in Monaco for a few weeks before pre-season testing, everyone wanting to escape the cold snap that had taken over most of Europe.

Lance and Lando had arrived this morning, taking Max’s apartment for the week, the Dutch man comfortable with the move, practically living in Daniel’s flat already.

Lando had been one of the first they had called before Christmas after their trip to Séte, knowing they would catch Lance as well. Their friends greeting their confirmation of having talked and sorted out the growing feelings between them with a chorus of ‘Finally’ and a ‘I told you so’ or two while Pierre threatened to hang up on them.

‘Thank you’, Esteban replied, squeezing the younger driver close, knowing he was talking about that morning in their hideaway when they spoke over coffee and tea.

Lando patted his cheek, moving away from Esteban and bounding over to crash into Lance’s lap. He could here his friends forced exhale of breath, and pained gasp from where he saw Lando’s elbow hit his ribs. Yet Lando simply distracted him with a kiss, before turning to talk to Max and Daniel who had watched the scene with amusement.

Alex was chatting with Pierre in the kitchen, making drinks for everyone as they did. Pierre occasionally throwing a glance towards Esteban, a look in his eyes that Esteban now recognised as love and adoration.

The only one’s missing were Charles, who Pierre had left out for the moment, trying to figure out how to tease him one last time with all their friends involved, and George who was bringing his boyfriend to meet them for the time.

‘So, do we need to give this guy a shovel talk?’, Max asked casually, tucked into Daniel’s side, and surprisingly capless for once.

‘No, Lando already tried that’, Lance laughed, hugging the disgruntled man on his lap.

‘What do you mean he tried?’, Daniel chuckled, taking a drink off Alex as he passed them around.

‘He’s just so nice, and sweet’, Lando pouted, fingers entangling with Lance’s, ‘He’s a really amazing guy, perfect for George. And good looking. I wanted to give him a shovel talk but then he shook my hand and complimented me, and I melted a little. He’s really charming’.

‘Looks like Lance has some competition’, Max teased, leaning back into Daniel.

Esteban settled beside Pierre on the couch, watching curiously as Lando and Lance tilted their heads to gaze at each other, sharing an almost secretive smile. The moment was so tender that Esteban felt he was intruding on something he wasn’t aware of.

‘Oh, I don’t think I have to worry about that’, Lance replied, eyes never leaving Lando’s, ‘I mean George is never going to let him go anyway, they’re smitten’.

‘Yeah, they’re disgustingly cute’, Alex laughed, sitting on the floor near Lando, ‘But Lando’s right, he’s perfect for George’.

‘Speaking of George,’ Pierre smiled, waving his phone in front of him as he got up, ‘They’re outside’.

‘Oh, let the interrogation begin’, Daniel chuckled as Pierre left.

Esteban let himself drift in and out of conversation, following the rapid fire battle of wit between Lando, Max and Daniel as Alex and Lance chatted softly about the upcoming season as they waited for Pierre to come back. He got up, having finished his drink and headed to the kitchen to make another when he heard the door’s lock turn and Pierre’s laugh fill the space.

He took a moment to hide in the kitchen, listening to introductions and slowly preparing himself for meeting someone new. That little bit of anxiety kicking in as he tied away the mixture he had used.

‘Este, come meet George’s boyfriend’, Pierre appeared in the door away, holding a hand out which Esteban gratefully took.

George stood in the centre of the living room, surrounded by their friends with his arm wrapped around the waist of a man that was slightly shorter than him, and Esteban had to admit Lando was right, he was good looking.

George’s boyfriend has lightly tanned skin and big brown eyes under round golden frames, the glasses perched on his nose shifting as he smiled at the group who were making introductions. His hair was a soft, light brown, verging on sandy blond but not quiet. He had a slim build, like a dancer, all gentle and light muscle, and he looked at George as if he held the answers to the universe.

‘Esteban, this is Cameron’, George’s smile softened as he said his name, gazing back at Cameron with so much emotion that Esteban couldn’t help but smile.

‘Please, call me Cam’, Cam laughed, a sweet sound as he smiled at Esteban, ‘Thank you for inviting us, you have a great home’.

‘Damn, Lando was right’, Daniel laughed, ‘The boy has got charm’.

‘The boy has got a name, although at your age, I know it’s hard to remember new names’, Cam teased, flashing a cheeky smile at Daniel as the group burst into laughter.

‘Oh, I like him already’, Pierre laughed, wrapping his arm around Esteban’s waist, and leaning into his side.

Esteban hid his smile in his drink, watching as Cam integrated into the group seamlessly. He seemed to have already developed a friendship with Alex and Lando, each greeting him with quick hugs. Even Lance seemed found of him, agreeing to another Quiz Night at Cam’s University, a fact that had Esteban raising his eyebrows at his usually introverted friend who shrugged him off.

Cam even managed to keep up with Daniel’s banter, giving as good as he got much to Max’s amusement as he watched his boyfriend get verbally destroyed in a battle of the wits by George’s boyfriend. All while George stood their proudly, kissing Cam’s temple softly whenever the other glanced up at him nervously to check he wasn’t overstepping.

‘So’, Lando questioned as the conversation died down and everyone had settled in seats or the floor once more, ‘I assume Charles isn’t here because you want to fuck with him again?’

His choice of words caused a chain reaction of drivers choking on their drinks, with Daniel laughing an echoing Lance’s, ‘Kinky’, answer from months before as Max glared at his boyfriend.

‘Yes, I want to send a picture of all of us somewhere to drive him insane’, Pierre chuckled after explaining the tradition to the rest of the group, ‘Although I will probably let him catch us this time, I just can’t figure out how to do it’.

‘You do this to mess with him yes?’, Cam asked from where he was sitting in George’s lap with the others arm around his waist, and head on his shoulder.

‘Oh you so have something evil planned’, Pierre chuckled, leaning forward to listen.

‘Well, why don’t we go out on Lance’s yacht, invite Charles’s girlfriend to go with us’, Cam explained, mischief glinting in his eyes, ‘We wait at the harbour and if he shows up after you send a picture of all of us, then we take off or let him on the boat, your call’.

Everyone sat in silence for a moment, letting Cam’s words sink in before they began to laugh and grin.

‘George, I love him’, Pierre cackled, already reaching for his phone to call Charlotte, ‘If you’re ever stupid enough to leave him, we are keeping him in the group over you, sorry’.

‘Rude’, George laughed, letting Cam press a soft kiss to his cheek.

‘It’s okay bébé, I won’t let them kick you out’, Cam reassured, patting George’s cheek.

‘Okay, enough mushy shit’, Max declared as Pierre left to call Charlotte, ‘Lets go mess with Leclerc’.

Esteban had gathered blankets, directing Lance and Alex to where they could find snacks, and drinks to stock the yacht, Lance being unsure of when the last time it had been stocked was, having not used it in months but having secured his usual Captain to get it running for them to take out to sea.

They had split up as they left the apartment, separating and squishing into two cars once Charlotte had agreed to mess with Charles. Apparently, he had used the last of her favourite hair mask and saw this as a way of revenge, agreeing to meet them at the harbour.

It hadn’t taken them long to reach the harbour, Esteban glad he was driving as he watched Alex, Cam and George climb out of the back of his tiny car, complaining about their knees before grabbing their bags to head to the yacht where Charlotte was waiting with the others, chatting to Lando and Lance.

‘Where do you want us Gasly?’, Max had called from the deck, smirking as the others climbed abroad.

‘By the bow of the yacht, that way he can see the harbour in the background’, Pierre smirked, pointing everyone to where he wanted them.

It took some shuffling to figure out where to place everyone, especially with Lando and Max grumbling about being placed at the front of the group for being ‘short’, the taller boys at the back while Charlotte just smiled, chatting to Cam as they got shuffled around until Pierre gave George the okay, using his long arms to take the picture of the group, all of them beaming, Max flipping off the camera.

Pierre had laughed, settling in Esteban’s lap as he hit send on the picture with a simple text, ‘Tag, you’re it.

It had only taken seconds before his phone started blowing up with texts, ranging from confused to annoyed to vaguely threatening.

‘Wait, what? Everyone is here?’

‘Is that Charlotte?? WHY IS CHARLOTTE THERE PIERRE SHE SAID SHE WAS GOING TO THE STORE’

‘OMG DID YOU KIDNAP MY GIRLFRIEND PEAR’

‘Wait, who’s that with glasses??? Did you kidnap a stranger???’

‘I am on my way. I swear to god Pierre if that yacht is gone, I will drown you’.

‘For legal reasons that was A JOKE’.

‘You better be there Pierre’.

Esteban buried his laughter in Pierre’s shoulder, taking a beer from Lance when the other settled beside him, eyes trained on Lando who was chatting with Max by the railings.

It hadn’t taken long for Charles to find them.

His face red, and doubled over with hands on his knees, trying to breath through a flurry of curses in French, Italian and what might have been English, but no one could really make it out.

‘You okay there Leclerc?’, Max teased as Charles glared at him, flipping him off.

‘I…ran…to make sure…this fucker…didn’t ghost me…again’, Charles accused, pointing a shaky finger at Pierre who had lost control of his laughter, sending everyone over the edge as they gave the Captain the signal to take them out to sea, Daniel having untethered the yacht once Charles had joined them.

Eventually the laughter died down, Charles gaining his breath back as he moved to flop beside Charlotte who handed him a towel and a drink as everyone began to settle.

Esteban noticed that Lance had moved away, going to stand by Lando. The two of them lost in their own little world as conversation broke out around them.

‘So….’, Charles smirked, eyes locked on George and Cam who were sitting side by side, pressed together with George’s arm around Cam’s shoulders, ‘How exactly did you two meet?’.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!
> 
> This time with Pierre and Este's backstory, and how they developed a tradition of pissing off Charles!
> 
> Also, welcome Cam to this AU!
> 
> We'll learn more about him in another installment ;)


End file.
